Today is all about memory of food. Between my mom’s family cookbook, the new artist-friend I am conversing about food with, and the fact the last few weeks have been spent with a stomach bug I…
As a species that prides itself in intelligence
It’s quite funny to think it complains about an issue
It crafted with its own hands
In cities that survive due to self-doubt
Carrying price tags that promise a way out
The border between earth and space— what lies out there and our staged world is tightened
We promote what we convince ourselves we can’t afford
As if we were attempting to sell the stars, or the very air that we breathe Almost believing we’re unworthy of living to simply exist
The cage we’ve built for ourselves has a key and a lock
We hold the key, but want it nowhere near that lock
We’re having too much fun pretending we need to work to get out
We’re telling ourselves we’re happy, excited, more connected than ever
As we gaze at paid actors wishing they could break out of character
Like us, gradually fading into an illusion we buy as reality, let me repeat
Artificiality polished as what is real, and natural, away from our emotions and away from other people
Simply indulging in what is served on our plate
Because we’ve worked hard for it, we may as well deserve it.
Thank you for reading.
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